


Never Forget Again

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-07-27
Updated: 2003-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-27 05:07:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12074112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: Happiness, sweetness, togetherness, goodness. Come on, you know you want to read it. Brian POV, second person.





	Never Forget Again

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

You tried your best to forget everything.

You avoided the diner at all costs.

Didn't go where were he might be or where he once was.

You don't need any old memories creeping up on you and you'd be damned if you'd make any new ones.

 

 

But today you woke up happy and forgot to stay away from all the places you once frequented.

You walked into the diner without thinking.

And there he was.

He was doing some little thing with his hands and he was smiling.

Just a little wisp of a smile. His own secret smile, you knew, because for some reason the diner was empty.

You dwell for a moment on the familiar sight and then a memory hit you like a freight train.

The memory of times when you knew all of his secrets.

 

 

And now, this new memory of standing, frozen and staring, at a person you didn't know.

Damn it. And you promised yourself you wouldn't do this shit.

You are jerked from your gaze when he turns and looks at you.

That's all he does. He looks at you and then he goes back to shuffling tea bags or whatever. 

You walk over slowly and set down your things. Briefcase on the seat, coat down next to it and then you sat down.

You waited for him to turn around. He didn't.

"Justin..."

He turns but won't look at you.

"What do you want?" his voice is curt and so not like you remember it.

"Eye contact."

He stops and considers this then raises his eyes to yours.

"Happy?"

"No."

He mumbles something that sounds like 'figures' and turns away.

You stand up and start to speak when the door chime interrupts you. You turn and look. It's Ethan.

Your caught off guard for a moment but don't show it. You gather your shit and quickly leave but not before spitting 

out a 'hey, Ethan' which you hope left him rattled.

 

 

Once out into the street you try to suppress the thoughts that are stomping around your skull, but you can't.

You miss Justin. Miss coming home to open arms and that priceless smile of his. Miss the way his voice makes the halls warmer and the way all his stuff makes all your stuff look happier.

A smile creeps on to your face and then it fades away as you remember the Rage party, and the way he looked at you, and Ethan.

Ethan.

You don't hate him. Hell, you don't even know him. He's seem nice and if Justin likes him there must be something...

 

 

It would be so much easier if you could blame this all on him. You wish it was all his fault.

But it's not. And you know that.

 

 

Fed up, you force these memories and various thoughts from your now aching head and decide to focus on your job or whatever else can keep you occupied.

The day drags like you knew it would. You're a bitch to everyone unfortunate enough to cross your path. You down like half a bottle of aspirin trying to kill the dull ache that is your head and leave early in a pissy mood.

 

 

You drive around for a little bit, just because, and then you head home. You're not really paying attention to what you're 

doing. You just head towards the front door of your building. Someone's sitting on the step and you finally look up to see who it is. Ethan. Again. 

You wonder if maybe you were wrong. Maybe this is all his damn fault. But it still doesn't work. Fuck.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"I wanted to talk to you about something." He gets up like he's really got something really, really important mission to complete.

It's cute. Reminds you of someone else.

"Come on up." You don't betray any emotion you might have with your voice. You never do.

He looks worried for a split second like you might just hack him up and hide him in the walls. You'd be worried in his situation. You might hack him up but you'd hide him in the floor. It's tempting but when you get into your loft you decide to listen to him first.

"What do you want Ethan?"

"Why were you at the diner this morning?"

"Because the diner is open to the public last time I checked. Why do you care?"

"What were you and Justin talking about?"

"Why do you care?" 

You emphatically repeat your question. Why just answer all of his questions? 

"I care because I'm not gonna loose him like you did. Because given enough time he'll love me like he loves you. As long as you aren't around."

Okay, so it's all his fault. 

You sigh. If only.

"Ethan ... get the fuck out of my loft."

He stares at you like he hates you or like he's going to cry and then leaves.

And when he's gone you can't even remember what was said. Whatever. He's not your concern.

Your responsibility is to yourself. You don't owe anybody a God damn thing, remember?

Then again, that kind of thinking is probably why you're so damn miserable right now.

You just can't win can you?

 

 

You shower and try to get the feeling of your crappy day off with vigorous scrubbing and boiling water. It almost works. The rest of the day is just you doing little 'whatevers' around your loft. You surf the chat rooms a little and call Lindsay to find out how her and your son are doing. They're fine. You're still not. You consider rounding up the boys and going out but Mikey's got Ben and Ted and Emmett have each other so, you know, not. No one wants Brian Kinney third wheeling it with them. It's okay though. You'll go out alone.

 

 

And you do. And it's just like always although you did get great blow job from someone. You don't know who and you don't care.

The night ends early and you're tired of this shit before midnight. You give up and head home. A block away from your building you think to look at the door for any more people waiting to ambush you. 

You recognize him immediately. You could pick out that blond head in any crowd. You think he must be cold because he's not wearing a jacket and there's a chill in the air. And then you tell yourself that you're not his mother and you're not supposed to care. Still though.

You walk up to him. He looks at you. That's gotta be something, right?

"Hi." Simply 'hi' but his voice sounds the way you remember it. Not at the diner. Before, when you knew all his secrets. It's nice. And you think when you get upstairs, the halls are gonna be warm again.

"Hi."

"Um, can I talk to you?"

"Sure," you struggle to nail your cool to the floor of your mind so you won't loose it. "Come on up."

 

 

You slide the loft open and start tossing articles of clothing and shoes in various directions just like the first time you led him up here. You think maybe you'll go get a bottle of water but stand around awkwardly in the kitchen instead.

"What do you want to talk about?" You can feel your cool trying to wrench itself from the nails and you want to break down and tell him all the things you can't even tell yourself but you don't.

"I uh, wanted to apologize for this morning. I've been having a bad week and I didn't mean to be such a shit to you."

"It's okay. I've had days like that"

"Yeah. Yeah, I remember." His hands keep fidgeting and you want to help him. He looks so nervous. But what can you do?

"How's Ethan?"

"He's fine but we broke up today. He got kinda freaky when he saw us talking. I don't need that."

"No, you don't. Ethan actually came by here so I know what you mean by freaky."

"He came by here?" Justin was obviously shocked by this. He didn't know. "What did he say?"

"Well, he wanted to know what we were talking about and why I was there."

"Oh. Why were you there?" He had inched closer to the counter and now the smooth surface of it was the only thing between the two of you. You think about how much you miss the way his face feels under your hands.

"To uh, to be honest? I just forgot to stay away."

He smiles. It's still priceless. Beautiful. You miss the way that smile tastes. "Really? That's how I ended up here." Your face cracks into a grin too. Your cool bolts out the window. You remember this feeling, it's happiness. You're happy. "Seriously," he continues, "I left Ethan's and started walking and I ended up here." He had moved around the counter by now. Or maybe you're the one who moved, it doesn't matter. He's right next to you.

"What a coincidence."

And then you're kissing him. He kisses you back, maybe out of habit, and then pulls away.

"I... uh. Um.. I... "

"I miss you." 

He stops stammering. Stops twitching. He looks at you like he used to. Like he knows all your secrets too. He smiles again. That smile.

"I bet you do." He starts to chuckle lightly and you just bust up laughing. Both of you are half way to the floor in fits of giggles until your foreheads touch, lightly. He pushes your face so close to yours there's a chance they could melt together. He kisses you this time and pushes you against the counter. You touch his face. Still like it always was, and your eyes open. He looks at you. Right through you like he can read the back of your head through your eyes. He's so good at that. Another grin sneaks onto his face, he must have an endless supply you think, then he speaks.

"Hi." Simply 'hi.' You chuckle once or twice, leaning your head against his and shutting your eyes. He is so good at that.

He lifts your head up with his hand and searches your eyes again. Looking for all the answers you don't have and wish you did.

"You still won't say it, will you?"

"I can't now but it doesn't mean I never will. You're just more than words, you know?"

"Yeah," he smiles, "as long as you know it too."

You get an uncontrollable urge to pick him up and carry him to bed and you don't fight it. You lift him and he hooks his legs around you laughing like he does when he's high. You spin him around a couple of times and walk him up the steps to your bedroom. You fall onto the bed with him and can barely kiss him because your smile's so huge. And during the struggle to unbutton, unbuckle, and generally unclothe he looks straight through you again. 

"I remember you," he whispers.

And all you do is dissolve into kisses and frenzied happiness and him.

And you're just glad that you remember him too and that you'll never forget again.


End file.
